


gold rush

by peach_june



Series: gold rush [1]
Category: TREASURE (Korea Band)
Genre: Aftercare, Biting, Blow Jobs, Comeplay, Coming Out, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Facials, Friends With Benefits, Hand Jobs, Horny Asahi, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mentions of Feminization, Mentions of Multiple Partners, Mentions of Voyeurism, Mentions of exhibitionism, Name-Calling, Praise Kink, Teasing, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:33:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29168103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peach_june/pseuds/peach_june
Summary: After seeking out his best friend to bemoan the state of his sex life, Asahi accidentally outs himself as gay to their notoriously loose-lipped maknae.Really, he thought the consequences would be far more dire.
Relationships: Hamada Asahi & Yoon Jaehyuk, Hamada Asahi/Kanemoto Yoshinori, Hamada Asahi/Takata Mashiho
Series: gold rush [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2141241
Comments: 8
Kudos: 67





	1. everybody wants you

**Author's Note:**

> howdy, pls read the tags in case something isn't your cup of tea!  
> the things tagged as "mentions of" are only referred to in the hypothetical.
> 
> note: speech in italics is japanese

“Worst part of being an idol,” Asahi says as he bursts into Jaehyuk’s room, “is all the hot guys.”

Jaehyuk rolls his eyes, scooting over on the bed to make room for his best friend. Asahi crams himself onto the mattress, flinging an arm over Jaehyuk so he won’t be half on the ground.

“I’m serious,” Asahi says, not even waiting for Jaehyuk to respond. “How is it even possible for me to be this horny?”

“Ugh, Asahi! TMI!” Jaehyuk whines, squirming under the weight of Asahi’s arm.

Asahi’s smile is small and mischievous. “Seriously, I feel like if I jerk off anymore, my dick is going to- “ He lands with a graceless thump on the floor, cackling to himself as Jaehyuk makes disgusted noises overhead.

“I miss when you didn’t talk,” Jaehyuk says.

“Aw, Hyukkie,” Asahi pouts, his head popping back up over the side of the bed. “I thought you had my back.”

Jaehyuk scoffs, but pulls Asahi back onto the narrow mattress, arranging them both more comfortably. “You’re my best friend, Sahi, but there are some things I just don’t need to hear about. Your nonexistent sex life is one of them.”

Asahi wriggles closer to Jaehyuk, in one of his clingy moods, tucking his face into Jaehyuk’s neck and going boneless. “It’s easier for you,” he sighs. “You’re not constantly bombarded by women. I can’t turn a corner without seeing somebody I’d jump.”

“I do not want to think of our members that way,” Jaehyuk says. “Some of them are babies.”

Asahi’s head rears back in offense. “Ew! You think I wanna jump the babies? What’s wrong with you?”

Jaehyuk’s cheeks are pink as he splutters, “W-Well, you said- !”

“I’m talking about our hyungs, Hyukkie!” Asahi shakes his head, planting it back in Jaehyuk’s neck. “You perv.”

Jaehyuk doesn’t dignify that with a response, instead going back to scrolling idly through his phone.

The two lay in comfortable silence, Asahi’s breath evening out until Jaehyuk can hear soft snores. He takes a few pictures, but his best friend looks so peaceful and cute that Jaehyuk doubts he’ll ever use the pictures as blackmail material. He’s so warm and drowsy that Jaehyuk drifts off, himself.

The door being shoved open for the second time that afternoon has both Asahi and Jaehyuk blearily groaning and rubbing at their eyes.

“Hyunsuk-hyung wants to- !” Junghwan cuts himself off, spinning on the spot so he’s not facing his hyungs anymore. “Oh! Am I, um, interrupting something?”

Asahi frowns for a moment, before a bubble of laughter escapes him. “Me and Jaehyuk? He’s straight as a ruler.”

Junghwan cautiously turns back around, seeming relieved when he finds that the two sleepers have extricated themselves from one another. “Okay, good, because... “ He pauses. “Wait. You said Jaehyuk-hyung is straight. So. Asahi-hyung? You’re…?”

Asahi blinks. Then again. Then, “How about we don’t mention it?”

For a moment, it looks like Junghwan will disagree, but he nods eventually. “I mean, hyung, it’s not bad. I’m not judging- “

“We’re forgetting, Junghwan!” Asahi hurries to say.

“Right, right,” Junghwan says, nodding like a bobblehead. “Um. So…”

Jaehyuk has mercy on the maknae. “What did Hyunsukkie-hyung want?”

“Oh!” Junghwan brightens. “We’re deciding what to order for dinner. He wants your input. Uh, down in his dorm.” He hovers at the door for an awkward moment, obviously trying to look like he’s not being awkward. “Okay. See you there!”

As soon as the boy is gone, Asahi is burying his face in his hands and letting loose a soul-deep groan.

“Well,” Jaehyuk says, “that was painful to watch.”

“How pissed do you think Jihoon-hyung will be if I curl up and die right now?” Asahi asks, muffled.

Jaehyuk laughs at Asahi’s pain. “At least you don’t have to worry about coming out to everyone else now. You know Junghwannie can’t keep a secret.”

Asahi’s head snaps up, horror on his features. “Shit. They’ll just look at him and he’ll crack.” He lets out another groan. “This is not how I wanted everybody to find out.”

“Ah, it’s okay, Sahi,” Jaehyuk encourages, shaking him gently by the shoulders. “If anybody gives you trouble, they’ll have to deal with me.”

“You think I could get out of dinner tonight?” Asahi asks miserably.

Jaehyuk sighs, “Not a chance,” and even manages to sound sympathetic. “Now come on, we’d better get over there to do damage control.”

He ends up having to practically drag Asahi down the hall to the dorm everyone is gathering in. The closer they come to the open door letting voices spill out into the hallway, the more closed-off Asahi’s face becomes.

Asahi shakes off Jaehyuk’s arm before they come into view and takes a fortifying breath. If he’s lucky, Junghwan won’t have immediately blabbed. That will be its own kind of torture, though, sitting around waiting for the timebomb to go off. He’s not sure which is worse, but Asahi tries to prepare himself for either scenario.

Jaehyuk leads the way into the dorm, standing halfway in front of Asahi like some kind of human shield.

“Ah, they’re here!” Junkyu announces from his perch near the door.

Hyunsuk is marching over to the new arrivals in a second. “You two!” he says sternly. “Pizza or hamburgers?”

Asahi nearly stumbles with the wave of relief that hits him. Junghwan hasn’t said anything yet. He can’t exactly relax, but he doesn’t have to freak out yet.

“Pizza,” Jaehyuk says after a moment. Asahi taps his back. “Asahi says pizza, too.”

Hyunsuk grins, spinning on his heel. “Pizza it is, boys! Ruto, get the menu out!”

Within a few minutes they’ve ordered their pizzas and arranged themselves around the living room. Asahi sticks close to Jaehyuk and keeps an eye on Junghwan, who seems to be avoiding Asahi’s gaze as best he can.

“What movie are we going to watch tonight?” Jihoon asks, standing in front of the assembled group like he’s center stage.

“Train to Busan!” Haruto hollers.

Jeongwoo laughs, elbowing Haruto. “You would cry the whole time.”

Haruto scowls. “Yah, as if you aren’t our designated crybaby!”

“Not Train to Busan,” Hyunsuk interjects before an argument can really get started. “It’s too scary for me. Maybe a Marvel movie?”

“Haven’t we seen all of those?”

“We never watched Iron Man 2.”

“That’s because 2 sucks.”

“Take that back!”

Asahi tunes out the voices of his members, not particularly invested in the outcome of the brewing fight. Since Jaehyuk is involved in the heated discussion, Asahi leans against the other person who happens to be next to him. Whoever it is shifts easily, draping their arm over Asahi’s shoulder and tucking him up into their side.

“ _Sleepy?_ ” Yoshinori’s voice asks in quiet Japanese near Asahi’s ear.

For a split second, Asahi stiffens, but he forces himself to relax. “ _A bit,_ ” he replies, just as quiet.

Yoshinori’s laugh is just a puff of air against Asahi’s skin. “ _I’ll try to be still, Hi-kun. You can rest._ ”

Despite his anxiety over what Junghwan may or may not reveal about him, Asahi is comforted by Yoshinori’s words. He closes his eyes and lays his head against Yoshinori’s shoulder. He doesn’t sleep, not with all the noise around him, but he can hear Yoshinori’s heartbeat thrumming under his ear and focuses on that. He tries to breathe steadily in and out, to let go of his dread.

By the time the managers arrive with the pizzas, stirring the raucous boys who had been temporarily distracted by the movie, Asahi is feeling much better.

He waits until Junghwan goes to get his food, ambushing the maknae and dragging him aside to ask, “Did you say anything to them?”

Junghwan pauses where he’s chewing around a mouthful of pepperoni. “About?”

Asahi sighs. “About me being gay, Junghwan.”

The boy’s gaze skitters away like it has been all night. “Mm…” He swallows his pizza. “I didn’t, um. Really say anything.”

“And what does that mean?”

“I just said that you two were talking about something important. That’s all,” Junghwan says. He forces himself to look Asahi in the eye. “They wanted to know if it was anything bad and I said no, of course. So, it’s fine.”

Asahi rests his hands on Junghwan’s shoulders. “Good. Thank you, Hwannie.”

Junghwan grins, nodding enthusiastically. “Yeah! Of course, hyung! I’ll do my best to keep it a secret, okay?”

Asahi nods. “I would appreciate that.”

The maknae heads back into the living room, excited for the rest of the movie, and finally Asahi can breathe easy. He puts a hand over his own chest, getting himself back under control. He scavenges up his own plate of food, then goes to slot himself back between Jaehyuk and Yoshinori.

“ _Okay?_ ” Yoshinori asks.

Asahi shoves a slice of pizza in his mouth and gives a thumbs-up.

Yoshinori smiles at him, sending butterflies swarming through Asahi’s stomach.

Their thighs press against each other until they’ve both eaten their fill. When their plates are set aside, Yoshinori pulls Asahi in again. He shifts so he can put his back against the armrest of the couch and Asahi winds up in the vee of his long legs, Yoshinori’s hands light on his lower stomach, Yoshinori’s front pressed against his back. Their feet get shoved between couch cushions in order to avoid landing in Jaehyuk’s lap.

“ _Comfortable?_ ” Yoshinori asks.

Truth be told, the hard-on that’s threatening to spring up is pretty uncomfortable for Asahi, but he’s not about to admit that. So he just says, “ _Yes,_ hyung.”

Sitting through the rest of the movie is almost painful for Asahi. Yoshinori’s fingers start tracing shapes onto Asahi’s belly during a big fight scene and he refuses to let up. Junghwan, when he eventually notices the way Yoshinori is wrapped around Asahi, starts giving Asahi these wide-eyed looks. Asahi wasn’t paying much attention to the movie anyway, probably couldn’t say what the damn thing was about, but all of his focus is consumed by the warmth emanating from every place Yoshinori is touching him. He has to stop meeting Junghwan’s eyes because it makes him blush and he’s worried someone will notice and ask him about his pink cheeks.

Asahi turns his face toward the back of the couch, pressing his cheek to Yoshinori’s shoulder and trying not to get hopelessly turned on. There’s not even any skin-to-skin contact! He’s not about to pop a boner just from Yoshinori’s fingers drawing circles on his sweater.

“ _Are you alright?_ ” Yoshinori breathes.

Asahi jolts and instantly tries to pretend he didn’t. “ _Y-Yeah,_ ” he replies. “ _Just tired._ ”

Yoshinori smooths a palm down the flat of Asahi’s stomach, coming to a stop with just the tip of his pinky pressing beneath Asahi’s waistband, tucking the sweater ever-so-slightly in. “ _Are you not getting enough sleep?_ ” His hand moves, and after a moment Asahi recognizes that Yoshinori is now carefully petting him.

“ _I_ _guess not,_ ” Asahi says. “ _T_ _oo much in my head._ ”

Yoshinori makes an understanding noise. “ _Anything worth sharing?_ ”

Asahi bites his bottom lip to prevent embarrassing himself. Did the boys pick the longest movie in the world, or what? “ _Uh, n-nothing really interesting,_ hyung.”

Yoshinori’s other hand, which Asahi had nearly forgotten about, shocks him by slipping beneath his sweater, cool against Asahi’s overwarm skin. Those long fingers splay out over Asahi’s hipbone in a gesture Asahi would call possessive if he could think it without his brain bursting. Asahi feels the dip of Yoshinori’s chin that means he’s nodding.

But the bastard doesn’t say anything else. Just holds Asahi’s hip and pets his lower stomach as if it’s an everyday occurrence.

The movie winds down, the heroes having saved the day. There are snickers, quiet discussions of if they should take pictures to humiliate Asahi later.

“Go ahead,” Yoshinori says, whispering like he’s trying not to wake Asahi. “It’s the penalty for falling asleep early.”

Someone, maybe Junkyu, asks if they should make Asahi get up and go back to his own dorm.

“It’s fine. When he wakes, I’ll take him back.”

A chorus of mumbled goodbyes, the group dissolving and going their separate, sleepy ways.

When the last door has closed, all is still and silent in the living room.

“ _I feel like I should be mad at you,_ ” Asahi says at length.

“ _Don’t be mad,_ ” Yoshinori tells him with a soft laugh.

He scoots further down the couch, stretching his legs out and hooking his elbows under Asahi’s knees at the same time. Asahi gasps as his legs are spread, feet placed on either side of Yoshinori’s thighs. One hand returns to Asahi’s abdomen, sliding up under his shirt and, without hesitation, tweaking a nipple.

Asahi can’t quite bite back the high-pitched whine he makes.

Yoshinori presses his mouth to the side of Asahi’s neck so Asahi can feel his shit-eating grin. “ _You don’t sound mad._ ”

“ _Yoshi-hyung, why are you-_ “

Yoshinori presses his knees outward, drawing a low moan from Asahi as the movement forces him to spread his legs further. The fingers toying at his nipple pinch and pull.

“ _When you laid on me earlier,_ ” Yoshinori says, “ _I_ _started thinking._ ”

Asahi gnaws on his lower lip, making himself stay as still as possible like Yoshinori won’t notice how turned on he is if he doesn’t wriggle the way he wants to. “ _Thinking?_ ” Asahi pants.

Yoshinori’s cheek presses against Asahi’s temple. “ _Then I overheard part of your conversation with Junghwannie and I thought some more._ ”

“ _You were eavesdropping?_ ” Asahi asks, a brief flash of cold fear dimming his arousal.

“ _Not intentionally,_ ” Yoshinori assures. The hand clutching Asahi’s hip shifts, teasing fingers dipping beneath the waistband of his athletic shorts. “ _But I realized you might be…_ ” Yoshinori pauses like he’s searching for the right word. His hand drifts until his fingertips encounter the trail of soft, short hair leading to Asahi’s dick. “ _You might be receptive to my advances._ ”

Asahi’s hands clamp down on Yoshinori’s legs, grappling at the junction of his knee and thigh. “ _So, instead of g-going for a kiss or something, you decided-_ “ Asahi laughs breathlessly, nudging Yoshinori’s head with his own. “ _You just went straight for groping me on the couch,_ hyung?”

Yoshinori nips at the bolt of Asahi’s jaw and he pinches sharply at the abused nipple in his fingers. Asahi lets loose a helpless moan, squeezing his eyes shut.

“I’ll stop if you want,” Yoshinori says, the shift back to Korean jarring Asahi.

Asahi is rolling his head back and forth in denial before he even decides to speak. “ _I want you to stop teasing me,_ ” he replies in Japanese, ignoring the out.

Yoshinori giggles - actually fucking giggles - at Asahi. “ _Am I teasing?_ ” he asks. “ _I was trying to warm you up to the idea._ ”

“ _I_ _’m fucking warmed up,_ ” Asahi snaps. “ _Touch me._ ”

“ _You’re trying to be bossy when I literally have you spread like a whore over my lap?_ ” Yoshinori says, the words sending a bolt of heat down Asahi’s spine.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Asahi gasps.

Yoshinori starts pushing at Asahi’s shorts, shoving them down his thighs until they’re tangled around his knees. “ _You like being called a whore?_ ” Yoshinori asks, voice dark.

Asahi clenches his jaw, tries to hide his face, but Yoshinori is having none of it. He grabs Asahi’s jaw and twists his head forward, making him look down the length of himself to where his dick is valiantly attempting to poke out of the flap in his boxer-briefs.

“ _I think you do, Hi-kun,_ ” Yoshinori says. “ _Look at how hard you are for me._ ” He groans in Asahi’s ear. “ _If we were in bed I’d fuck you. I’d make you shout my name, let everybody know who got first go at you._ ”

Asahi can’t resist rutting backward, trying to press as much of himself as possible against Yoshinori. “ _First go?_ ” he asks through the haze of lust.

“ _You think I’m the only one who’s interested in you?_ ” Yoshinori says.

Asahi blinks, surprised. “ _R-Really?_ ”

Yoshinori runs the pad of his thumb over the tip of Asahi’s dick, making him keen quietly. The thumb goes to swiping back and forth, sliding slickly through the precum.

“ _Jihoon thought he’d be the one to fuck you first._ ”

“ _Wait, you guys have talked about that?_ ” Asahi tries to push his hips up into Yoshinori’s hand, but is tsked at for his efforts.

Yoshinori laughs. “ _The way you stick your ass out all the time, those looks you give us when you think you’re being subtle? You’re easy to want. Shiho-kun and I end up talking about you every time we drink._ ”

Asahi wants to be offended, but the idea of having wanted his hyungs for so long and learning they’ve wanted him back is making heat pool low in his gut.

“Hyung,” he manages to get out, “ _I think I’m going to die if you don’t t-touch me. I’m so- I can’t-_ “ Asahi bites his lip hard enough to draw blood as he stifles the wail that threatens his throat when Yoshinori finally wraps a hand fully around him.

“ _Been a while, Hi-kun?”_ Yoshinori teases, jacking his cock slow and dry.

Asahi shakes his head. “ _I jerked off twice this morning, fucked myself on my vibrator for hours last night._ ”

Yoshinori’s hand spasms on Asahi’s dick, and with a moan he rolls his hips forward, letting Asahi feel the cock pressing into his lower back. “ _You have no idea how hot that mental image is,_ ” Yoshinori hisses.

Trying to sound more confident than he feels, Asahi says, “ _M-Maybe I’d let you watch me sometime._ ”

“ _I don’t think I’d be able to just watch,_ ” Yoshinori tells him. 

Asahi takes a juddering breath, persevering despite the way he can feel himself blushing like a brand against his skin. “ _Y-You’d be able to just, ah, just slide in after I was done. And fuck me. And - shit, please, like that - and I’d be loose and, s-sloppy. Wet like- like a girl._ ”

“ _Sahi, fuck, that’s filthy,_ ” Yoshinori growls. He tears his hand away from Asahi’s dick and brings it up to his mouth. “ _Spit._ ”

Asahi hurries to do so and is rewarded by Yoshinori’s spit-slick hand returning to his dick and jerking him off at a faster pace than before. He notices that Yoshinori had at some point shifted from holding his chin to gripping him gently by the throat and it thrills him, having such a vulnerable part of himself handled with great care.

Without making the conscious decision to do so, Asahi starts pushing up into Yoshinori’s hand, silently asking for faster, tighter, more. Yoshinori obliges him, collecting Asahi’s precum and using it to further wet his hand.

“ _Can you come like this?_ ” Yoshinori asks.

Asahi nods, but it’s more just letting his head loll against Yoshinori’s collarbone. “ _Getting close,_ hyung.”

The hand around his throat leaves momentarily, rucking Asahi’s sweater up around his armpits so the expanse of his abdomen is on display. Yoshinori says, “ _I want you to come on yourself, Hi-kun._ ” 

“ _Yeah, please,_ ” Asahi makes himself say. “ _Just a little more._ ”

Yoshinori’s efforts redouble, his hand almost a blur, twisting his wrist and thumbing over the head with every upward stroke.

“ _Fuck, Sahi. So hot,_ ” Yoshinori is saying. “ _Wanted to touch you while everyone was here, make you come while they watched their movie._ ”

Asahi moans low in his throat, feeling prickles of heat under his skin, the spiral of lava in his core coiling tighter with every word. “Hyung,” he whines, “ _please, please._ ” He doesn’t know what he’s asking for, just that he needs something.

Yoshinori leans down, his breath ghosting over Asahi’s neck, then his teeth are latching onto the junction between Asahi’s neck and shoulder.

Like a switch is flipped, Asahi is instantly covering his own chest with cum, making embarrassing high-pitched whimpering noises, mindlessly rocking up into the fist still working him over. He feels like he’s plummeting off of a cliff, like the rush of bungee-jumping multiplied by five.

He’s so utterly swamped with pleasure that he barely notices Yoshinori snaking out from underneath him, kneeling between his obscenely widespread legs, and furiously stripping his own cock.

Asahi watches through half-lidded eyes, stretches out further to entice Yoshinori. “ _Come on,_ hyung,” he says. “ _Come all over me. Mark me. Let everyone know you were here first._ ”

With a punched-out groan, Yoshinori spurts ropes of white cum over Asahi’s own quickly-cooling load. He sags back onto his haunches, letting loose a heavy, satisfied sigh, then he’s pitching forward, bracing himself on his elbows over Asahi. His fingers dip into their shared spend and start rubbing it into Asahi’s skin. It’ll feel disgusting later, but Asahi doesn’t stop him.

“Mmm,” Yoshinori hums lazily, “ _that was nice._ ”

Asahi swallows, hit once again by nervousness. “ _Did you mean the stuff you said?_ ”

Yoshinori blinks at him, confused, then a bright smile steals over his face. “ _About everyone wanting to fuck you? Yeah, that’s real. Does that-_ “ Yoshinori is suddenly stricken. “ _Shit, that must seem so creepy to you._ ”

“ _A little._ ” Asahi shrugs. “ _But it’s not like I don’t get off thinking about you guys all the time._ ”

Yoshinori pouts overdramatically. “ _Not just me? I’m offended._ ”

Asahi rolls his eyes and shoves at Yoshinori’s shoulder until he leans back and lets Asahi sit up. “ _Don’t worry, you star in several fantasies. Probably even more of them, now._ ”

Yoshinori slings his arms over Asahi’s shoulders, hands dangling down in front of his chest while he leans up against Asahi’s back. “ _You realize saying that just makes me want to keep you for myself, right?_ ”

Now that he isn’t caught up in the throes of lust, Asahi is more reticent, but he still wants to tease. “ _I feel like you’d change your mind the first time I mentioned wanting you and Shiho-hyung to spitroast me._ ”

“ _Hi-kun!_ ” Yoshinori groans, sounding pained. “ _Fuck you, I’m not going to be able to get that image out of my head until I get the real thing._ ”

Asahi smirks, pleased to be able to affect Yoshinori in the same way Yoshinori has affected him. “ _You’ll just have to bring it up next time the two of you drink together._ ”

Yoshinori pushes away from Asahi, walking around the front of the couch to offer him a hand up. The hand is promptly captured and used to yank Asahi in closer, so the two of them share the same air.

“ _Shiho-kun likes it rough,_ ” Yoshinori says.

“ _I_ _can handle rough,_ ” Asahi answers.

Yoshinori smiles, small and private, just for Asahi. “ _I don’t doubt that. I’m just telling you so you can work on sucking cock between now and then. He really likes facefucking._ ”

Asahi’s dick gives a weak little twitch, but he pushes the feeling aside. “ _Thanks for the advice,_ hyung _. Maybe you could help me practice?_ ” He widens his eyes and flutters his lashes, going for cute, innocent dongsaeng.

“ _Anytime, Hi-kun,_ ” Yoshinori tells him. He finally lets Asahi go, allowing him to retreat back into his personal bubble. “ _You know where to find me._ ”

As Yoshinori walks away, Asahi sucks his lips in to fight the grin that wants to break free. Although tonight ended up being pleasant, Yoshinori definitely deserves some revenge for letting the members take pictures of Asahi cuddled up to him.

He’s going to regret his offer of “anytime.”


	2. anyone would die to feel your touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sharing is caring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> very lightly edited but not rly cos im tired of editing shit rn
> 
> this one did NOT want to be written and came out different than i intended, but then an overarching plot decided to sneak into my porn

It starts off innocently, Asahi swears.

Sure, he's blown Yoshinori several times since that first handjob on the couch, but other than that their relationship is unchanged. Asahi thinks it's actually a pretty nice arrangement, convenient for the both of them and blissfully free of expectations from either party. They're still good friends, still hang out and make music together, and sometimes nothing sexual at all occurs between them.

This particular evening begins in a familiar, sexless manner: it's J-line night in Asahi's dorm.

"Can we _please_ play another game?" Haruto pouts from the floor.

Mashiho, who has been decimating everyone at Super Smash Bros for the past hour, laughs down at Haruto and kicks gently at his thigh. "Aw, is Ruto-kun tired of getting his ass kicked?"

" _Yes_ ," the giant baby says. "I vote for Mario Kart. I'm better at that."

Yoshinori, predictably, lights up at the potential chance to show off his skills and turns big puppy-dog eyes on Mashiho to say, "That would be fun!"

And because nobody can deny Yoshinori when he pulls _that_ face, Mashiho agrees and the three of them navigate to the other game.

"We could go borrow Junghwan's Switch if you want to play, Hi-kun," Yoshinori says to Asahi.

Asahi waves off the suggestion lightly. He's in the process of drawing the other Japanese members sprawled across his room like they own it. If they were to ask why he was drawing them, he'd say it was because they looked funny when they got way too into their game. The truth is that he treasures their comfort in a space so comfortable to himself. Asahi appreciates that they generally respect his privacy, but he can't deny that it stirs up all kinds of gooey feelings to let trusted others into his personal sanctum. He is content to watch and sketch and laugh as his friends fling insults back and forth in their mother tongue.

They play Mario Kart for another hour or so, Asahi letting himself be cajoled every so often into playing a round in someone else's stead, before Haruto pulls himself to his feet and announces he's going to bed.

Mashiho elects to walk Haruto out so he can go to the bathroom on the way back, and nearly the instant the door shuts behind them, Yoshinori is crawling into Asahi's bed.

Yoshinori braces himself above Asahi on his hands and knees, grinning. "Hi-kun~" he singsongs.

"Yoshi-kun~" Asahi sings back tonelessly.

"You look so pretty tonight," Yoshinori says. "Have I ever told you how much I like you in blue?"

Asahi rolls his eyes. "So cheesy, hyung."

Yoshinori leans down until his lips brush the shell of Asahi's ear when he says, "Call me senpai, tonight." He doesn't go far once he's said it, though, only moving far enough away to meet Asahi's eyes. "May I kiss you?"

For a second, Asahi is confused. He's a bit too hung up on Yoshinori's order for the subsequent request to register, and then he blinks. "You... want to kiss me?" he asks.

"Ah, yes," Yoshinori says, looking a bit shy. "I've wanted to for a long time, but I kept forgetting to ask , so..."

Asahi laughs softly, but hurries to explain when Yoshinori seems like he's hurt by it. "Hyu- Sorry, senpai, it's just," Asahi runs a hand down Yoshinori's back to soothe him. "Your cock has been in my mouth, of course you can kiss me. Since you never just went for it, I thought you weren't into that. I didn't realize you were waiting to ask first."

"I am very, _very_ into it," Yoshinori says, and then he’s kissing Asahi once, soft and careful.

It’s stupid that such a chaste kiss can cause Asahi’s brain to begin malfunctioning, but it does. He hasn’t had a kiss like that since his very first. The gentle warmth he’d felt earlier is becoming a fire, raging out of control where Yoshinori’s gentle hand is slipping around to the small of his back.

“Again,” Asahi says. “Before Mashi gets back.”

He shuts his eyes as their mouths connect again. His lips are exploratory, moving against Yoshinori’s cautiously in case he does something he’s not supposed to. The idea makes him feel like a dunce. He’s never overthought kissing like this, never been so afraid to make the slightest wrong move. Yoshinori shifts, breaking away again to shift down to an elbow over Asahi. He leans back down and cradles Asahi’s cheek with the hand that had been on his back. His thigh slots between Asahi’s, ostensibly for balance, and the next kiss he gives has a bit more pressure behind it. Still gentle and slow, but his tongue is teasing at Asahi’s lips.

It’s beyond nice, kissing Yoshinori. He knows what he’s doing, slows it all down when things start feeling rushed. It’s kind of a tease, of course, but Asahi relishes the feeling of being kissed like he’s more than just Yoshinori’s horny dongsaeng (or, Asahi supposes, his horny kohai). He thinks he could lay here for hours just making out and be happy.

Asahi fists one hand in the fabric over Yoshinori’s chest while his other travels upward, coming to cup the nape of Yoshinori’s neck. His efforts are rewarded with the sweep of Yoshinori’s tongue over the seal of his lips. He catches the tongue with gentle teeth, feeling Yoshinori smile.

Their mouths disengage for a moment so Yoshi can give a playful growl and nip at Asahi’s neck.

“When exactly did this become a thing?” Mashiho asks from the direction of the door, which clicks shut loudly in the silence immediately following the question.

Yoshinori and Asahi freeze, staring at each other wide-eyes for a moment before directing their gazes to Mashiho.

He raises an eyebrow. “I mean, not that I’m complaining about the show.”

Yoshinori sits up, scrambling away from Asahi to perch awkwardly on the end of the bed. “Mashi-kun! I, uh. This is a bit- “

“Yoshi-senpai and I have a thing going. Friends with benefits, I guess?” Asahi swoops in to save Yoshinori, recovered from the momentary shock. “This isn’t exactly how I’d hoped you’d find out, but there it is.”

Mashiho’s eyebrow arches higher and he straightens from his nonchalant slump against the closed door. “So how _was_ I supposed to find out, then?”

Asahi shrugs like his heart isn’t beating faster at the glint he sees in Mashiho’s eyes. “Yoshi-senpai was supposed to invite you to join us sometime,” he says as casually as he can.

Mashiho looks to Yoshinori, who ducks his head sheepishly. “We’ve been too busy to hang out one-on-one recently, Shiho. It isn’t like I was purposely avoiding it.”

“Too busy?” Asahi echoes. “You come over here all the time.”

Yoshinori laughs and settles a hand on Asahi’s calf. “Mashi-kun doesn’t suck me off when we get together.”

Mashiho snorts and sidles closer, eyeing Asahi and Yoshinori interestedly. “He’s over here almost every night. You suck his dick that often?” he asks Asahi.

“Not every time, but mostly, yeah.”

“Hi-kun’s getting pretty good at it,” Yoshinori says. He squeezes Asahi’s knee. “Finally took me all the way down a few days ago.”

Mashiho is close enough to touch Asahi, but he doesn’t. “I’ve seen his cock, so that’s a pretty solid feat.”

Asahi clenches his jaw, the praise from two directions reigniting the fire under his skin. “Yeah, I, um.” He takes a steadying breath and forces himself to meet Mashiho’s eyes. “I wanted to be able to deepthroat you. So you could f-fuck my face. Whenever you decided to join us.”

Mashiho’s eyes darken and Asahi knows he must be blushing bright red, but that slight reaction is worth the brief embarrassment it causes Asahi to say it.

“Hi-kun has a filthy mouth,” Yoshinori tells Mashiho. “I don’t know how he says the shit he does without flinching.”

“He is truly a mystery to us all,” Mashiho agrees. “How does he like being told what to do?”

Yoshinori hums thoughtfully. “He listens well enough, but he seems to prefer when I just _make_ him do something, rather than telling or asking him to do it.”

Asahi thinks he should be offended by the way he’s being discussed as if he isn’t even present, but it kind of turns him on so he doesn’t really care.

“Care to demonstrate?” Mashiho asks.

Yoshinori grins. “It would be my pleasure.”

He grabs Asahi’s ankle and drags him partway down the bed, mussing the blankets beneath him before pulling Asahi to his feet with a grip on his wrist. Those long fingers tangle in Asahi’s hair, just on the right side of too tight. Yoshinori forces Asahi to his knees in front of Mashiho, still holding his wrist in the other hand.

“Isn’t he so gorgeous like this?” Yoshinori coos. “And look, he's getting hard so fast.”

“Can’t believe you kept him to yourself for so long, Yoshi-kun,” Mashiho gripes. “You know Jihoon is going to pop a blood vessel when he finds out.”

Yoshinori scoffs. “He already hoards Junkyu and Hyunsuk, Hi-kun can be ours for a while.”

Asahi groans at the thought of being _theirs_. Having marks that everyone knows are Yoshinori’s and Mashiho’s. Being sandwiched between them, warm and content. Getting fucked by one then the other, maybe even both at the same time.

"I need a dick in my mouth, like, yesterday” Asahi complains, pulling lightly against Yoshinori’s hold.

Mashiho tuts at him, face drawing into disapproval. “Being a brat isn’t going to get you what you want, Hi-kun.”

Asahi bites the inside of his lip to fight back the instinctual retort. “Right. Sorry, Mashi.”

“You should apologize to your senpai,” Mashiho says. “He’s being nice enough to let you suck my cock and you’re being greedy about it.”

Something about the statement makes Asahi burn with arousal, a light sweat breaking out under his cardigan. Mashiho’s implication that Yoshinori is _allowing_ this to happen, that he has a sort of claim on Asahi that nobody else does, that Asahi in some way belongs to him is intoxicating. Yoshinori’s fingers are still in his hair, still holding his wrist but now massaging gentle circles against his pulse point.

Asahi wants that, he realizes abruptly. He wants to be _owned_.

“Sahi?” Mashiho is asking from far away. “Asahi? Are you with us?”

Like a vacuum has sucked up all his thoughts, Asahi’s mind goes blank. He blinks at Mashiho. Blinks again. Then, as if all his systems are coming back online, he jolts and says, “Yeah. I’m... Yeah. Just, uh, got a bit lost in my head for a second.”

“Do we need to stop?” Yoshinori says, concerned eyes peering down at Asahi.

“No!” Asahi snaps, then grimaces at the outburst. “No, I really am okay. Just started thinking about, uh,” he scrambles for something that isn’t his pathetic realization that he's into some kinkier shit than he thought, and lands on, “having to sing tomorrow. And the... logistics... of how to do this without wrecking my throat.”

Mashiho’s worry melts into a smile at the words, charming and warm and somewhat settling the anxious thundering of Asahi’s heart. “I’ll be careful, then, Hi-kun. If you think I’m going too deep, tap my thigh, okay?”

Yoshinori guides Asahi’s captive hand to Mashiho’s thigh, urging him to hold on. Asahi tenses as Yoshinori’s grip on his hair loosens and he doesn’t want to seem like he’s not into what’s going on, because he _is_ , but he is weirdly unhappy about the idea of Yoshinori not touching him anymore.

“Um, senpai,” Asahi makes himself say, “would you, uh. Can you keep touching me? I like the way your hands feel.” He staunchly refuses to meet Yoshinori’s eyes as he makes the request, too embarrassed at his own neediness.

“Of course, baby,” Yoshinori says fondly.

Asahi is too busy whining at the pet name to notice at first as Yoshinori drops to his knees, but he definitely notices his senpai fitting himself against Asahi’s back. His hands go to Asahi’s hips, one of Yoshinori’s favorite places to hold.

“Better?” Mashiho asks from above them.

Asahi nods frantically, only stopping when Mashiho’s own hand comes to rest atop his head.

Mashiho shoves his loose shorts down his thighs, letting them pool around his ankles. He wraps his free hand around the base of his dick, dragging up and down the length slowly.

Asahi opens his mouth wide without being told to, extending his tongue over his bottom teeth so they won’t catch on sensitive flesh.

“Being so good, Hi-kun,” Yoshi murmurs in his ear, sending goosebumps racing down his arms. Louder, he tells Mashiho, “He’s been so excited about this. Don’t make him wait, Shiho.”

Mashiho snorts. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to fuck this pretty face?” he says. “I’m sure I’ll have plenty of opportunity to tease later.”

With that, Mashiho feeds Asahi his cock, pushing slow and steady until he reaches the deepest point Asahi is currently comfortable with. Asahi taps the thigh beneath his hand.

And then Mashiho is _moving_. He fucks in and out of Asahi's mouth at an even pace, testing the resistance of his throat every few thrusts. Within seconds, spit is dripping from Asahi's lips - only for it to be swiped away by Yoshi's fingers and shoved unceremoniously down the front of his pants. Yoshi wraps his spit-wet hand around Asahi, making him moan as Mashiho pauses his movements with half his dick inside Asahi's mouth.

Asahi boils with pleasure, with the satisfaction of seeing Mashiho flushed and dark-eyed and watching Yoshi's hand shift under Asahi's clothing.

"Lemme see," Mashiho says, craning his neck, and Yoshinori complies without hesitation.

He tugs Asahi's pants down around his thighs as far as they'll go, revealing the swollen cock in his fist. He strokes a thumb almost affectionately over the tip and says, "He's got a cute dick, huh? Fits just right in my hand."

Mashiho laughs lightly and resumes thrusting, slower now that he's watching Yoshi jerk Asahi off. "Maybe not the biggest, but definitely pretty. Little Princess Asahi with his pink cock."

Asahi's breath tries to stutter, but he doesn't want to choke and look like an idiot, so he contains his reaction to a quiver. His eyes fall to half-mast as he looks up the length of Mashiho's abdomen to his face. Yoshinori squeezes his cock and he moans helplessly, doing his best just to keep his mouth open and lax. Nothing more than a hole for Mashiho to fuck into again and again.

Yoshi starts talking to him, as if he can tell Asahi is starting to float away.

"So good." The words are spoken right into his ear. "Perfect for your senpai, huh?" He presses kisses into Asahi's hair, his shoulders, wherever he can reach without disrupting Mashiho's rhythm.

Mashiho grunts up above them. "Gonna come soon," he warns.

Asahi tries to suck in earnest and wriggles his tongue as best he can. He wants it, wants Mashiho to come - whether its down his throat or on his face, Asahi doesn't mind, but he _wants_ it.

"You're beautiful," Yoshi says, sounding awed. "Wanna show you off, show everyone how pretty you are with a dick down your throat." His chest presses more firmly to Asahi's back as he curves around, placing a kiss on Asahi's cheekbone. "I want you so fucking bad, Hi-kun, want you all the time."

Asahi groans deep in his chest, orgasm suddenly swamping over him in the wake of Yoshinori's words.

Mashiho comes in his mouth while Asahi is still peaking, moaning gutturally and tightening the fist in Asahi's hair. Asahi's eyes are brimming with tears, shiny and wet on his lashes.

All he can wonder is if Yoshi finds him beautiful like this, too. If he likes seeing Asahi crying, glassy-eyed with spit and cum gathered on his lips.

Yoshinori shifts, dragging Asahi with him, and Mashiho rocks back on his heels as his softening dick pops free of Asahi's mouth. He pulls his shorts back up with a faint grimace.

"How about you, Yoshi?" Mashiho asks. "Want me to- ?"

"Want senpai to come on my face," Asahi blurts. He pats around until he finds Yoshi's newly-unoccupied hand and laces their fingers together.

Yoshinori allows Mashiho to pull him to his feet and guide him to stand where Mashiho had just been. Mashiho pushes Yoshinori's waistband down just far enough to free his cock of its confines before he spits in his hand and starts tugging.

Either Mashiho is _stellar_ at handjobs or Yoshi is super on edge, because it takes barely ten strokes before Yoshinori is crying out and spurting seed across Asahi's features.

Nearly before he's done, Yoshi is using his trembling hand to make Asahi stand, too, and then he starts _licking his own cum off of Asahi's face_ and if Asahi had the energy to, he would die on the spot. Yoshi doesn't so much as let him budge, though, gripping tightly to one shoulder to keep Asahi in place. Mashiho circles around to support Asahi from behind, evidently having noticed that Asahi's legs are shaking like he's a newborn deer or some shit.

When Yoshinori is done, he kisses Asahi ferociously, more teeth than lips. But just as suddenly as he had acted, he subsides, and he's giving Asahi a wide, pleased grin.

"You did so well," Yoshi praises before looking to Mashiho. "Mashi, would you go fetch him a glass of water?"

Mashiho presses a kiss to the back of Asahi's neck, and then he's gone, moving with purpose across the room.

Carefully, like Asahi is fragile, Yoshinori lowers him to sit on the edge of his bed. He helps Asahi stretch his legs out, massaging the cramped muscles. Once he considers that job finished enough, Yoshinori stands and fetches the pack of face wipes Asahi keeps on his desk for when he feels disgusting and greasy. Yoshinori cleans Asahi's face, then both of their hands. He drops the wipe into the trash bin, and that's when Mashiho pokes through the door with the requested glass of water.

Asahi drains it quickly, sighing at the relief it brings to his throat. The cup is snatched out of his hand and placed on the desk, and then, as if they'd planned it, Yoshinori and Mashiho push him down onto the bed and scoot around until he's sandwiched between them.

He would usually avoid something like this, but Asahi just relaxes and soaks up the heat of two extra bodies crammed into a bed far too small for them all.

They won't be able to stay all night. It would be suspicious and Asahi still isn't _out_ gay. He thinks he might try to go through the group one at a time, controlling who gets to know what and when they do.

Yoshi kisses him again before he and Mashiho leave. He lingers for long moments, never pressing for more than a chaste meeting of their lips.

Asahi feels the ghost of that soft kiss long after its giver is gone, and tries very hard not to imagine a familiar voice calling him _mine_.


End file.
